Summit
by andyse7en
Summary: Sequel to Pitch Black- Includes original character. R&R please


I'll never forget the day they landed here at station 209-4637. We don't get many people by here. We're pretty far out here in Sector 37. That might be one reason why I'll never forget that day, but the other may be because such a strange group of people has never arrived at this place. There was a boy, who I later learned was really a girl, a holy man, and HIM. Where should I start. I guess the beginning is as good a place as any…  
  
The day started off like any other day… I'm a flight lieutenant for The Company, sent to this shithole as punishment for… Well, how about we get into that later. The point is I'm not here for the view. I was watching the radar, as ordered, and this ship blipped onto the screen. We authorized docking after identification, same old routine. There's only about 150 of us here, so there were a lot of people hanging around to see the new arrivals. Being a little more than half interested, I watched the passengers unload from a distance. Out of this old ship, rusted with time and bleached by exposure to sun, stepped these three people. A boy, looked about 13, a middle aged holy man, and a well-built man in a blood stained shirt. The boy stayed close to the man in the blood stained shirt. I noticed him because, well, he was attractive. Muscular, with tanned skin and a shaved head, eyes concealed by goggles. My eyes were drawn to him, feeling a strong emanation of something like power. They were brought past me, and I could feel the man's eyes on me even though I couldn't see them.  
  
Later on that evening, I went down to the bar, hoping that the new arrivals were there. I had learned the group's names. The boy was really a girl, and her name was Christine. The holy man's name was Imam, and HIS name was Johns. I went to my usual seat in the back of the bar, partially hidden in dimness. I ordered my usual bourbon on the rocks, and waited. It wasn't long before they came in. Like I said, there are only 150 of us here, and there aren't very many social facilities. Imam didn't come, of course, but Johns and the girl came in, and sat at the bar. They both ordered, and I was a little surprised, because the girl looked about 14 years old at most. I sat and watched them for about two hours, noticing how closely Christine was to Johns. I noticed that Johns was still on his first drink, taking very small sips every once in a while. I had no plan to go up to them. That's not my style. Finally, after a few too many drinks, I decided to go back to my room. I looked over at the two once more to realize that they were both gone. Frowning, I went to the door. There was sudden movement, and he was standing right in front of me. He was quite a bit taller than I am, and I'm sure a different woman would have been intimidated.  
  
"After watching us for two hours I expected you to come over and introduce yourself." His voice was low, almost a whisper. I looked down at Christine who was looking up at me, a small grin on her face.  
  
"We don't get very many tourists here…" I moved to sidestep him, but he blocked my way. I looked up at him, his goggles still hiding his eyes from me. From this proximity, I could smell the tangy smell of danger and aggression on his skin, his pheromones were red and my nerves began to tingle in excitement.  
  
"Still no introduction?" He raised one of his eyebrows, and his teeth gleamed for an instant in a smile.  
  
"Lieutenant Flashert, and you are Johns. Can I go now?" I challenged, narrowing my eyes slightly. He stepped back slowly, and I felt Christine's eyes on me.  
  
I reached my quarters, still thinking about his smell, the velvet quality of his skin. I decided to make some coffee since I was on call, and couldn't risk being inebriated. I had just sat down and lit a cigarette when I felt a slight breeze. Turning quickly, sensing someone's presence, I scanned the room. There was no one there. Just as I turned back to the table, a cool blade was pressed against my throat.  
  
"You're not afraid." Johns was close to me, his warm breath on the nape of my neck.  
  
"Why should I be?" I moved to stub out my cigarette, but he grabbed my hand, removing the cigarette and taking the blade from my throat. He moved across the table from me, and I saw that he had removed the goggles. His face was concealed in shadows, but his eyes gleamed. "You know, most people knock."  
  
"You know," His voice was deep, delicious. "Some people know that it's impolite to stare." He inhaled from my cigarette, the smoke wafting in the air, hiding him even more from plain view.  
  
"Still upset about that?" I smiled, and took back my cigarette. "What do you want from me?"  
  
"Well, Lieutenant Flashert, I'm curious to know why you took such an interest in me and my little friend, and why I don't make you nervous." He leaned forward, and I saw his eyes. Beautiful dark eyes, except for the unnatural shine to them. I didn't know whether I should tell him the truth or not, so I stalled, taking a long time to extinguish my smoke.  
  
"I'm surprised you're not more perceptive to things. I know what you are. I could see it on you the moment I saw you." I smiled as a look of confusion crossed his face then quickly vanished.  
  
"You don't smell of fear, even when my knife was against your throat. I can't read anything else… How could you know what I am?"  
  
"You emanate it, Johns… That's probably not your real name, is it? How many people have you killed?" I could see that my question startled him, and I laughed. "I'll tell you my count if you tell me yours."  
  
"The name's Riddick. Don't ask me to tell you why the three of us are here, cause I wont. What I can tell you is that we need a new ride out of here. I saw by your stripes that you're a Lieutenant. This means an out for you too." He sat back, the shadows hiding him from me again. I leaned towards him, trying to read some expression on his face.  
  
"You obviously can fly. Why do you need me? Your excuse of 'setting me free' just doesn't seem likely."  
  
"I can fly. But being able to and wanting to are two different things. Besides… I've been inside so long that I don't know my way around that well." I closed my eyes, knowing that what he was offering just wasn't possible. I was on parole, stationed here for my own safety. But I knew that I could not say no to this man.  
  
"All right. You've got a deal." I whispered, not believing what I was saying. He stood, and moved over beside me.  
  
"Good choice, Flashert. We'll talk about the details tomorrow…" He ran his hand up my arm to my shoulder, and my eyes closed. He wrapped his fingers around my neck, and the smallest gasp escaped me. "Hope you have no thoughts of ratting us out. Whether you're afraid of me or not doesn't make a fucking difference to me." He applied slight pressure, and then was gone.  
  
His name rang a bell somewhere in my memory, and I decided to check it out. I logged into the database, and did a search. What I found made me smile. Besides the usual sociopath garbage, I read that he had killed most of his platoon in a mercenary mission. I went to bed that night feeling unsure but happy about my decision to go AWOL.  
  
I reported for duty as usual the next day. The day seemed to pass especially slowly. Time seemed to have stopped in that way that only happens when you're waiting for something to happen. A few times in the day I thought he had changed his mind, but I got message at dinner that he was waiting for me in the cafeteria. I hurried down, doing all those ridiculous things that women do when they go out for dinner with a man. My stomach was all in butterflies, and I almost didn't go. Not because I was scared, but because I felt so stupid and emotional. I was acting in a way that I wasn't used to. But I got my shit together, and went down to see him. He was sitting at an isolated table with Christine, who waved when she saw me standing at the door. I walked over, and sat down.  
  
"So you're Lieutenant Flashert." Christine exclaimed, her eyes fixed on my face. "Ridd- Johns hasn't stopped talking about you." Riddick kicked her leg, and she winced, her eyes smiling. I looked at him.  
  
"Have you really? Only good things, I hope." I raised a brow, the corners of my lips curled into a smile. My eyes wandered from his eyes (hidden, of course) to his neck, where I saw his jugular pulsating with each heartbeat.  
  
"She exaggerates." His voice was low, and he sounded annoyed. I watched Christine react with interest.  
  
"So you're going to take us away from here, huh. Where are we going to go? What's the plan?" Christine said, changing the topic quickly. I got the impression that she had gotten on Riddick's nerves a few times, and didn't wish to do it again. There were no signs of abuse, but abuse isn't always physical, or even verbal. The scared look in her young eyes gave it away. I looked at Riddick.  
  
"Well, I'm not really sure. You'd better ask the boss." I leaned back, wishing for a drink. "I thought that's what this meeting was about."  
  
"You must be hungry. You haven't eaten all day. Why don't you go get your dinner, and we can discuss things over drinks, yeah?" He read my mind. Maybe he could pick up on things just as easily as I could; he just didn't want me to know. One thing about us that makes us different from the 'normal' humans is our heightened senses. Gotta love that good old killer instinct. I now understood why he liked the girl. She was open to all possibilities, and didn't judge him for what he was. She hung on his every word, absorbing like a sponge all that she could of him. Or maybe she just had a crush on him. I ate my dinner quietly, letting them watch me, and then we went to the bar, Christine close to my side. I led them to my regular table, now realizing with pleasure that it was dark enough for Riddick to take off his goggles.  
  
"Doesn't he have the coolest eyes?" Christine said excitedly, peering at Riddick. I smiled, and made a noise of agreement. When the waitress came by, I ordered my bourbon, and was a little surprised to hear Christine order one as well. Riddick ordered a screwdriver, and I couldn't help grinning. He grinned back. I lit a smoke, holding out the pack to Riddick, who took one.  
  
"Well, what's the plan? When do we leave, where do you want to go, do you need supplies?" I asked, unable to keep my eyes on his.  
  
"Yeah, Riddick, when are we going to leave? Can we go to sector 4? I heard it's really great there." Christine said, making a face after she took a sip of her bourbon. I was impressed when she took a big gulp right after.  
  
"Well, Chris, I don't know. When can we get a ship, Flashert?"  
  
"Whenever you want. But we'll have to do a bit of planning if you want to make a clean getaway. They'll come after the stolen ship and me. We'll have to find a good place to hide." I ran a hand through my shoulder length black hair, trying to think.  
  
"Why are you here, lieutenant. You know why I'm here, I'm sure you looked me up. Why don't you tell us why you're here?" His eyes burned into mine, and once again I had to avert them.  
  
"I'd really rather not, if it's all the same to you…" I replied, draining my glass, and motioning to the waitress for another. Riddick looked upset. He did deserve to know. But I just wasn't comfortable talking about it with the kid. I'm not the type to shock people on purpose, especially not young girls. While I don't regret what I did, I don't want to relive it. He saw this in my eyes, and understanding showed on his face.  
  
"All right. Come on guys, let's drink up." The rest of the evening we listened to Christine's idle chatter, both mainly thinking we'd rather be alone with leather straps and other bondage gear. Once again I noticed that Riddick had only one drink. I had finally just asked for the bottle of whiskey, and Christine and I were ¾ of the way done. Christine's eyes were drooping, her speech slurred, and she often just drifted off, glancing drunkenly about the room.  
  
"You let her drink so you can have a moment's peace." I laughed, quietly.  
  
"I'm not used to kids… What can I say, it works." He smiled, and leaned on the table, my eyes drawn to his massive forearms. "I've been inside a long time." He said, alluding to the thing we had both been thinking about. I felt my face get flushed, and I poured myself another glass. "You married?" He asked softly, glancing at Christine's closed eyes.  
  
"No… Are you?" I smiled, amused by his directness.  
  
"God no… I've been inside most of the time, and I don't really take to men." He smirked. "Want to help be bring the girl here to her quarters?" He asked. I avoided his eyes, and nodded my consent. We stood, and he lifted the girl into his arms.  
  
"What happened on that planet?" I asked, following him. "Weren't you on a cargo ship?" He paused a minute.  
  
"I think the ship was hit by a meteor storm, and we had to make an emergency landing. Most of the passengers died on impact. The rest were killed by some xenomorphs." There was something I'd never heard in his voice before, and I glanced at his face, which revealed nothing. When we reached the girl's quarters, I opened the door for him and he set her down gently on her bed. "I think she's out until tomorrow." He smiled down at her, then looked over at me. "Want some coffee?"  
  
"Sure, thanks." I replied, looking around at the barren room. "I see you're a light packer." He laughed, leading me into the small kitchenette. I sat at the table, and lit a cigarette, handing him one.  
  
"Will you tell me now why you're here?" He asked, sitting across from me, sliding me the coffee. I looked down into my cup. "Why don't you want to talk about it?"  
  
"It's not that I don't want to talk about it, I'm just not sure that you'll understand." I looked up and met his gaze. He was laughing, covering his mouth with a fist.  
  
"Good excuse. Really." He cocked an eyebrow, and I laughed as well.  
  
" I was the flight commander on my ship. We were sent on a military operation. There were 5 crewmembers, including myself. We were carrying about 200 soldiers. The mission was to check up on a planet that The Company had lost contact with." I paused, taking a sip of the coffee, watching the smoke curl from the tip of my cigarette. "Everything went wrong. We landed to find that the colony had caught a highly transmissible virus… Something like rabies, I suppose. They were all crazy. 50 soldiers died in the space of thirty minutes, not because of the virus, but because one soldier who was infected ripped the spinal cords right out of them. I never ventured out of the ship, but I was hooked up to them via monitors and radio." I stopped again, trying to keep myself from drifting back into the memory. Riddick was watching me intently, his coffee forgotten in his hands. "As I watched them die, something awoke inside me. I liked seeing the blood, the bodies. It was like foreplay to me. When the surviving soldiers returned to the ship, I killed them one by one, some with my bare hands, others with various articles I found around me. When I got back to base, the military was unsure of what to do. Finally, they decided to keep the event top secret, develop the virus for their own use." I shook my head. " They sent me here to keep me quiet. I was tested of course. They called it a case of temporary insanity, momentary infection." I set down my mug, and leaned back, watching his eyes.  
  
"I guess they never saw it coming." His voice was low, and he was looking into his mug.  
  
"Nope… They never saw me coming. When I read your file, it brought it all back to me. Two of a kind, Riddick." He looked up at me, his eyes glinting. "How do you see me? What do I look like to you?" He leaned forward, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully.  
  
"I was always sorry after my operation, because I've lost my sight of color. I see some color of course, but not true color. I miss seeing the color blue, you know? I see shades of red and pink… but mostly grays, whites and blacks." He answered, with a slight smile, knowing that that wasn't the answer I was looking for. I finished my coffee, and rose to go. "Where do you think you're going?" He said, standing and moving in front of me with speed one would never expect from a man his size.  
  
"I was going to go back to my room." I raised an eyebrow, smiling at the playful grin on his face. "I have to start preparations for our departure." I stood about three inches from him , looking up into his eyes, feeling the tension between us like sparks of electricity.  
  
"Riddick?" Christine's voice came from behind him sounding weak and ill. "I think I'm going to be sick." We separated ourselves, and I excused myself, squeezing Riddick's hand lightly.  
  
The next day, I pretended to do my duties, but I was really looking for ships that we could 'borrow'. We had a few unused ones here at the station, but they were in various stages of disrepair. It was just our luck that a cargo ship docked here for refueling and picking up more supplies. They would be here for 12 hours. I made a note of the crew, passengers, and cargo to go over with Riddick later that night. As it turned out, all the passengers and crew came aboard, which made for quite a stir. This allowed us to take our leave while they were all socializing at the bar. We planned to leave by the time they'd all be dead drunk, and it all went smoothly. I knew how to fly the ship, and Riddick was my copilot. Christine sat up front with us, trying to be of some help, but only getting in the way and pissing Riddick off. I decided that the safest route was away from all of the most colonized planets, perhaps going to a smaller colony in the outskirts of the next sector, which was near a meteor filed. They made me nervous, meteor fields that is, but because they made everyone else nervous, people wouldn't expect us there. And if they did, we were protected from detection by the interference that these fields caused. We had left Imam back at the station because he wanted no part in our running from the law, although he vowed that he would not reveal any knowledge of our departure as repayment to Riddick for saving his life.  
  
It turns out that we weren't missed on station 209-4637 until long after we were gone. We decided to land on the planet below us, which was called Urion437. It was inhabited by a colony who were setting up an atmospheric processor. I was glad because these baby colonies are usually left alone by The Company until their job is almost done, and by the look of it, they weren't even close. We claimed to be a family, traveling for a small company (thus the cargo ship), and we needed to feel the ground under our feet again. This worked well, and the role playing was especially fun. Christine was beside herself with joy. I think it was because for once she had a family who treated her like a person. She said it was fun because she always wanted to act. There were about 15 families there, mostly young couples with very young children, so we fit in pretty well. Even with the close quarters, Riddick and I never did anything. Christine played a big part in that, always being with us, of course. But we had gotten so close that we could practically hold whole conversations without ever opening our mouths. Perhaps it was also the fact that we started calling each other by our first names. We were Richard and Brenna Kilcup, and our daughter Christine. It felt strange having Christine call me 'mom', but I think it was even stranger for Riddick. The look on his face when she called him 'dad' the first time made me laugh out loud. We knew we had worn out our welcome after a few bodies turned up, cut to pieces. But by then we had been there long enough to evade any searches for us. It was finally time to get back to civilization, and I was a bit disappointed. We were heading back to Sector 4, and I knew we would all end up going our separate ways. I had gotten used to our pretend family. Sure, I had friends back in Sector 4, but I felt I had finally come into my own. My mother would have been so proud of me, being domesticated an all. Riddick distracted me by putting his hands on my shoulders.  
  
"When are we heading out, Lieutenant?" His voice was low, and I heard something in it that I hadn't heard before. I pressed my cheek against his hand, his cool skin reassuring.  
  
"I like what we have here. I'll miss you guys when we get back to Sector 4." I said this hesitantly, knowing that he wasn't a commitment type of guy. He wrapped his arms around my neck, and his lips brushed my cheek gently.  
  
"I'll miss it too. We'll see each other again, though. Through all this, our little 'family' has kept me sane." I laughed, reaching back and running my hand over his neck and head.  
  
"I would have thought it was the other way." He laughed too, and tightened his arms around my neck just enough to make me breathe a little harder.  
  
"Guys? I really think we should go now…" Christine's voice came from the doorway, and I felt Riddick's body slouch in dismay. "There's a gang of men coming this way."  
  
"I hate leaving in such a rush… Are we all packed?" Riddick asked. We both nodded, grabbed our bags, and ran to our ship.  
  
Riddick had contacted one of his guys in Sector 4, and he arranged for us to be picked up in another ship once we were in the vicinity of the Sector. This would ensure our safety and anonymity upon arrival at the docking hangar. We would leave the ship that we 'borrowed' floating in space, after programming the auto-pilot to direct the ship to another sector, leading any Company men tracking us away from our exact location. We were processed as the Kilcups, and everything went smoothly. Christine had been acting strangely ever since we docked, and I took her aside for a minute to ask her what was wrong. She was hesitant, and her body language was that of discomfort.  
  
"Brenna, could I stay with you for a few days, just to get settled in?" Her voice was quiet, shy. "When I ran away from home, I was independent and all that, but after my experience with those… things, I'm afraid to be alone. I still have nightmares." I hugged her close.  
  
"Of course. Well, I shouldn't say that. I still don't have a place where I can stay yet. Don't worry, hon. We won't desert you." We walked back to where Riddick was standing with his friend.  
  
"So ladies, hope you enjoyed the ride?" Riddick's friend, Thompson, had a bad habit of looking at my breasts. He made my skin crawl. I glanced at Riddick, who was smirking.  
  
"Of course, Thompson. We are indebted to you. Is there any way I can repay you?" I batted my eyelashes at him. He moved close to me, and ran his hand up my thigh and along my side.  
  
"Well, since you mentioned it, darling, you could always work it off on me." In one swift fluid motion, I had my small switchblade at his throat.  
  
"Or I could just say thanks for the ride." He froze, and I grinned, taking the knife away. "You take care, Thompson. Maybe I'll see you around." I stepped away, taking Christine's hand in mine.  
  
"Riddick, man. What's with the bitch?" He was acting all cool, like he hadn't almost made a mess of his pants. Riddick laughed.  
  
"Take it easy, Thompson. I'll give you a call." He watched Thompson go, stepping over to us.  
  
"Nice guy." Christine muttered, staring at Thompson's back.  
  
"Yeah, well. He's useful." He looked at us and smiled.  
  
"I guess you'll be going?" I said, hiding the disappointment in my voice.  
  
"I have a few things to tie up, but I'll get in touch. Are you okay?" He looked down at Christine.  
  
"Yeah. Brenna said I could stay with her for awhile. Promise you'll come by?"  
  
"I promise." She hugged him tightly but quickly, a sad look in her eyes. I looked at him, not sure how to react. He bent, and kissed my lips lightly. "You two take care. Remember, we're still not totally in the clear, so watch your backs." He turned, and disappeared into the crowd.  
  
I called one of my old friends who hooked me up with a cramped apartment in a bad part of town. She said it was the best she could do on short notice, and would let me know when something better came along. When we had settled in, I made dinner, and sat down with Christine, who had been quiet ever since Riddick left us.  
  
"I know this is a shitty place, but we'll move up as soon as my friend can find something better. I'll get a job, and-"  
  
"It's not that," she interrupted. "It's just... I don't know. I kind of miss my mom." I set my fork down on my plate, and leaned forward.  
  
"Why'd you leave home?" I asked. She poked around at the food on her plate, and cleared her throat.  
  
"My mom was living with this guy, and he used to beat me. Mom too, but mostly me. I just got sick of it, and left." She looked up at me, trying to read my reaction. "My mom was okay, but she just did everything her boyfriend told her to do. They were going to send me away to some school. I didn't want to leave my friends, and I sure as hell didn't want to go to that school." She paused. "I was a stow away on that ship. Man, count my bad luck to hide out on a ship that crashed on a weird empty planet. Did Riddick ever tell you about what happened to us?" I shook my head. She slowly unraveled the whole story. She told me why she had poised as a boy, what happened when the ship crashed, and about the strange planet with three suns. She told me about Riddick, and how all the other passengers were afraid of him. She told me about the encounter with the aliens. She kept mentioning a Carolyn Fry, but I didn't ask her about it because she was so upset. She told me how Imam, Riddick and herself had been the only ones to escape the planet, and how they decided to dock at my station. It was now quite late at night, and I saw that the upset of reliving the whole ordeal had exhausted her. I tucked her in, and she was fast asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. I found that I couldn't sleep, and sat up drinking coffee. Now I understood why she was always so close to Riddick, and his reluctance to tell me himself what had happened. All that he had done on that planet had been against his own nature. I must have fallen asleep at some point, because Christine woke me up the next morning.  
  
"Did you sleep here all night?" She asked, rather surprised. I lifted my head off the table, my neck creaking in complaint.  
  
"Guess so." I stood and stretched, thinking about what to have for breakfast.  
  
I left Christine to fend for herself that day, and went out to look for a job. I figured I had two options. I could work in a service area as a waitress in a crummy bar, or I could stay underground, stay illegal. I decided not to ask my friend for help in this area, since she seemed to be tied up with her own problems. I went to an Internet café to look for any posted job possibilities. I took note of a few, and sent in my 'qualifications'. I ordered a coffee and sat back, enjoying the sounds of people around me. It was nice to be back with civilization again. There were so many people out, doing their own thing, not even noticing each other. It was lunch, and all the business people came out for their lunches, computers in hand, ear pieces in, yakking to their brokers, their partners, eating as if they had much better things to do with their time. Feeling watched, I turned to see Riddick standing behind me.  
  
"You always have to try and sneak up on me, don't you" I smiled, showing how happy I was to see him again. He took a seat next to me, and smiled back.  
  
"Course." He looked at my screen. "Looking for a job already?" He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah… My friend set me up in a really shitty place. Besides, I want my own place, not a borrowed one." He nodded, and I was sure his eyes were on mine even though I couldn't see them because of the goggles.  
  
"Is Christine doing okay?"  
  
"Yeah… We had a little chat last night. She told me about what happened on that planet." I saw something in his face, not quite upset, but I could see that he wasn't pleased. I changed the subject. "How about you, where are you staying?"  
  
"I have an apartment uptown. I guess my connections are better than yours." He smirked, and I punched his arm playfully. "If you want a job, I can get one for you. If you move in with me, you can laze about and eat chocolates all day. And be my sex slave, of course."  
  
"Tempting, hon… I'll have to think it over." We both laughed, and in the spur of the moment, I asked him for dinner. I knew Christine would be glad to see him, and it was a way to spend more time with him. We went our separate ways, him promising to come by for dinner.  
  
I came back to an empty home. I guessed that Christine had gone out to find something to do, or had found one of her old friends. I spent the rest of the day cleaning up the place, and preparing dinner. Riddick arrived on time, but Christine was still out. He showed some concern, but said that she was old enough to take care of herself. He had brought a bottle of wine, and we sat down to eat, saving some for when Christine returned. I had made good old fashioned roast beef. There is nothing worse than technology replacing food. I was never one for those freeze-dried, chemical meals. My mom also raised me to appreciate real food. But I'm moving away from the story now. We sat facing each other, eating quietly. I avoided his eyes, which shone unnaturally in the dimness.  
  
"Why won't you look at me?" He asked quietly, taking a drink from his glass. I almost choked on a piece of meat.  
  
" Hmm… Well, I'm a bit nervous." I set down my fork and knife, and leaned back in my chair.  
  
"Nervous?" He smiled. "Of little old me? Why are you nervous."  
  
"I haven't done this in a long time." I drank deeply, the strong red liquid fortifying me. "Do you like the food? Not too cooked, I hope…" I smirked, and looked him in the eye.  
  
"It's delicious. I haven't eaten this well in years. I haven't had such pleasant company in years." He trailed off, and I felt the sparks between us rise again. It was almost enough to make the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Once again, Christine came to the rescue.  
  
"Brenna? Why are all the lights out?" She asked, coming into the kitchen. She stopped when she saw Riddick. "You're back!" She dropped the bag she was carrying, and ran over.  
  
"Are you hungry? We left some for you." I said, standing.  
  
"Sure!" She sat, and began asking him questions about what he had been doing, where he was staying, if he would stay with us. I noticed that her entire demeanor changed when he was around. I thought of the story she had told me as I served her, and was still thinking about it when I sat down. I noticed that Riddick was watching me closely, and I stood, moving back to the kitchen. I heard them both go quiet. Christine was setting down her cutlery on her plate. The silence was stifling, and I slid down onto the kitchen floor. I couldn't tell what was wrong with me. My mind was empty, and I felt like a shell of myself, hollowed out, empty. There were movements in the other room, and I hoped no one came in after me. I wanted to be alone. An image flashed into my head. I saw myself lying in a tub of cold water. My eyes were rolled up inside my head, my skin a funny blue gray color. The water around me was red with blood, and at first I thought it was my own. Then I saw the body lying on the floor next to the tub. There was blood covering the floor, and the body was in such bad shape that I couldn't tell who it was. All a sudden someone was shaking me, and I heard screaming. With a start I was back on the kitchen floor, Riddick pulling me up to my feet, and Christine was howling away in tears.  
  
"What's going on?" I asked, dazed.  
  
"You've cut yourself." I saw that Riddick was looking at me strangely.  
  
"What are you talking-" I stopped in the middle of my sentence, seeing blood on the floor. My pants were plastered to my leg and I could feel it getting cold. I looked down at my leg to see a large gash across my shin, the pants ripped away revealing a long slash, the white of my bone smeared with blood. "So I have." I slumped into Riddick's arms, my legs feeling weak and shaky under me. He carried me to my room, and laid me down on the bed.  
  
"I can fix this up for you in no time." He was saying, elevating my leg onto a few pillows. He was muttering to Christine about getting bandages, cloth, a needle and thread. I lay still, staring up at the ceiling. The cut I had made was starting to sting ferociously. Riddick was cleaning it gently, and I sat up to watch.  
  
"I didn't know you could sew." I said, smiling.  
  
"Picked it up in the army." He smirked, and looked at me as he drew the black thread through my skin. "Along with cooking, cleaning, and needlepoint." I laughed, and glanced at Christine who was watching over his shoulder.  
  
"Why don't you go and clean up the mess in the kitchen, okay?" I asked, and I saw her face fall. "It'll be harder when it dries." I urged, and she left the room. I looked back up at Riddick who was still sewing diligently. His hands were hot against the skin of my leg. Maybe because he was excited by the sight of blood, or maybe it was just because my skin was cold from loss of blood.  
  
"Does it hurt much?" He asked, pausing to look at me, needle in hand, the thread now a muddy red color. I saw that my blood had filled the grooves in his fingers, etching his fingerprints.  
  
"Not much. It's cold." I reached for his hand and gently touched it with my fingertips. He was covered in blood from carrying me as well as sewing me up. I could smell it on him. I was breathing a little heavily, and I saw that he was flushed. I entwined my fingers in his, feeling the slickness of my blood on his skin, feeling the heat he emanated. I let go of his hand, and brought my hand up to my face, looking at the patterns of blood that his hand had made. He was still watching me. "I'm going to heal before you finish sewing me up." He laughed, and tugged at the thread a little. I gasped.  
  
"I could always open it again if it did." He finished up, knotting the thread, and cutting it with the knife that always hung by his side. He leaned down and licked at the blood quickly before putting the bandage over it. "All done." He sat up and looked at me, asking me with his eyes what he wouldn't ask out loud. Christine came back into the room.  
  
"I missed it!" She said in a whining tone. Riddick turned to look at her.  
  
"I'm sure you'll see more. Here. Throw these out, would you?" He handed her some bloody rags. "I'm going to go clean up." As he stood, Christine wiped away a bit of blood that was on his chin with her sleeve.  
  
"Are you okay?" She asked me, sitting beside me on the bed. "What happened?"  
  
"I'm not really sure. I just kinda drifted off…" I turned my head to look at her. "I'm fine though. It'll heal in no time." Riddick came back in, and sat next to Christine.  
  
"Maybe you guys should come stay with me tonight. You know, have a strong man to protect you." Christine shoved him. He shoved her back lightly.  
  
"That's not necessary, Riddick. I'm sure we could-"  
  
"Oh, please, Brenna?" Christine interrupted me, grabbing my hand pleadingly. I looked at Riddick.  
  
"Looks like you're out-voted two to one." He smiled. "Besides. I'm sure I could find you a better place than this one. Chris, go pack up your stuff and Brennas." He looked at me, and I closed my eyes.  
  
I opened my eyes to find myself on a large bed in a dark room. I sat up to assess my surroundings, but I couldn't see anything. The bed was cool and soft, and my leg was propped up on a large pillow.  
  
"You're finally awake." Riddick's voice came from the darkness, all around me it seemed. I only saw him when he moved. He had been sitting in a chair facing the bed.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"About 11 PM. You've been sleeping for almost 24 hours." He stood by me, looking down.  
  
"Have I? Where's Christine?"  
  
"Off somewhere. I gave her some money." I couldn't read any expression on his face. I jumped when I felt his hand on my cheek, the darkness so black I wouldn't have been able to see my hand in front of my own face.  
  
"How do I look to you now, Richard?" I asked, reaching up to his hand, running my fingertips over his smooth velvety skin.  
  
"Very red," he replied, and sank slowly down onto the bed beside me. I could see his eyes gleaming in the darkness, absorbing and reflecting what little light there was. I could almost see his heart beating, slowly and steadily, pushing the thick hot blood through his veins. His hand moved to my throat, underneath the shirt I was wearing and over the skin of my shoulders. His hand was hot against me, and I knew that this time it wasn't because of loss of blood. I shifted a little, a sharp intake of breath as the stitches in my leg pulled and strained. "How's that leg doing?" He ran his hand down from my shoulder to my leg, and gently unwrapped the bandages. He ran his fingers along the seam he had sewed, and I felt rather than saw the effect on him. I had to clench my jaw to keep from crying out. He leaned down and I felt him kiss the gash, felt his tongue prying apart the stitches. I did cry out then, but it wasn't a cry of pain. He was above me then, eyes radiant. I felt his hot breath on my face as he bent down to press his lips against mine. The metallic taste of my own blood on his lips thrilled me as though a jolt of electricity had passed though me. His weight was crushing, and I felt powerless under his hold. I knew he liked it, because he next grabbed my wrists and held them above my head, kissing along my cheekbone and throat. He released my hands to take my shirt off, flinging the bed sheets to the floor in something that was passion, but seemed more like rage. I reached out to touch his skin. I could feel his solid muscles jumping under the velvet skin that felt as if it would part with the pressure of a feather. He was tense, and at first I thought it was because of his arousal, then sensing that it was because of anxiety. I ran my hands over his arms, hearing his breathing quicken. I sat up, almost face to face with him, bowing my head to let it rest on his forehead. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath my fingers. He suddenly grabbed my hands roughly, my head jerking up to face him. I reached up in the dark and ran my fingertips along his strong jaw line, the smooth surface of his face. I kissed his lips, biting down on his full lower lip, feeling his hands on my back, at the nape of my neck. I couldn't say how long we explored each other with our hands. It must have been hours, because light began to appear in stripes on the wall, pale at first, and then into deepening tones of orange and red. I fell asleep in his arms, his bicep curled around my throat, my hand on his thigh. We were in such a condition that we didn't hear when the door opened quietly.  
  
I woke with a start, feeling Riddick's arm tighten, choking me into silence. I opened my eyes slowly, and looked around the room.  
  
"Richard…" I gasped. "It's only Christine." His arm loosened from around my neck, and I coughed. I sat up, pulling the sheets over me. Christine stood a little away from the bed. Riddick sat up beside me.  
  
"What is it, Christine?" He asked, and I heard the annoyance in his voice clearly. She stood there silent, eyes wide and unseeing.  
  
"There's something wrong." I fumbled on the floor beside the bed for my shirt and underwear. I wriggled into them as quickly as possible, and went over to her. Squatting down in front of her, I could see how pale she was. I reached for her shoulders to shake her, and she fell forward into my arms. I didn't understand why the back of her shirt was so wet, and why the smell of blood was so strong. Riddick was by my side in an instant.  
  
"Let her go." He said, his voice almost too low to hear. He tried to take her from my arms. "Let her go Brenna. She's dead." His words woke me from my daze and I let go of her so quickly that she fell onto the floor with a dull thud. I looked down at my hands to see them covered with blood. I looked down at Christine's body, her eyes still open and glazed, and fixed on the ceiling.  
  
"I don't…" I stammered, still confused at what was going on.  
  
"They've found us. We have to get out of here." He pulled me to my feet, and left me to grab some clothes for us to wear. He tossed me a clean pair of pants and a shirt, pulling on a shirt of his own. "Don't just stand there, Flashert. You can't do anything for her now." He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his large closet, opening the vent and lifting me through. We seemed to crawl for hours, and the only thing I could think of was feeling the bullet holes, feeling the blood soaking through Christine's shirt. As soon as we had made it out of the building, we were running again. I followed him sightlessly. Everything was spinning and dipping strangely before my eyes. The next thing I remember is sitting in a dank, dimly lit room, hearing voices speaking quietly. One of them was Riddick's. I sat up, disorientated. I heard one voice say 'She's awake', and saw Riddick coming over to me.  
  
"Come over and have a drink. You need one." I took his offered hand, and he led me over to a table where two other guys were sitting. One was Thompson and the other I had seen before but couldn't place. I slumped into the chair, looking down at the table. I could feel their eyes on me, and anger like a cloud filled my head. Leaning my elbows on the table, I saw that I was covered in Christine's blood. I uttered a guttural moan, and I felt Riddick's comforting arm around me. He slid me a glass of whiskey, and I drank it down, reaching for the bottle.  
  
"They must have spotted her when she went out somehow… They must have been tipped off about our arrival here." Riddick sounded frustrated, and I knew that he was more upset about Christine's death than he let on.  
  
"Why did they kill her? I don't understand. Why wouldn't they just take us into custody? Arrest us! Isn't that the procedure? Hasn't that been the procedure for the past few thousand years?" I heard my voice, high and hysterical, and I fought to control it. I swallowed another glass of whiskey.  
  
"Brenna, do you really think they'll go out on a limb for us? We're both criminals. We've both been through the system once before. They've probably hired bounty hunters to take us out quickly and easily. They spotted Christine, shot her, and she probably led them right to us." He was sitting back in his chair, fiddling with the knife.  
  
"What are you going to do now?" Thompson asked. Riddick looked at me.  
  
"If we got away once, we can do it again." I looked back at him, agreeing with my eyes. I was in no state to make decisions. I didn't want to make decisions. "We're going to need weapons, supplies…" I stood suddenly, not wanting to hear this anymore. I went into the next room and sat, closing my eyes. The conversation from the other room drifted in, often too low for me to hear. I know Thompson was trying to convince Riddick to leave me, that he had better changes of making it without me. It was true. He really did have better chances. The Company was looking for the two of us traveling together. I knew that he could just vanish. It seemed hours before Riddick came into the room.  
  
"You okay?" He asked, handing me another drink.  
  
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I asked, offering a half smile as I drained the glass.  
  
"You look like you need it. Besides, it would take a lot more than a few glasses." He came over and sat across from me.  
  
"Thompson is right. You'd be better off if you'd just leave without me." I tried not to betray the emotion in my voice, but he could see right through me.  
  
"I know he's right. But I'm not going to leave you here for the wolves." His eyes were fixed on mine, and I reached out to touch his face. "I think we can make it. I don't see why we couldn't." He stood, and started pacing, and I could almost see his brain cells bubbling. He mapped out a plan to me then. And it was a good plan.  
  
Thompson got us armed to the teeth with automatic pulse rifles, a few hand grenades, and a sidearm each. I hadn't used such artillery since I had been sent to Sector 209-4637, but I quickly got accustomed to them again. The only tricky part would be getting to the customs offices, which were across town, and most likely crawling with surveillance teams. The next tricky part would be getting past security at the hangar. Riddick's plan was this. We were to split up into two teams. Riddick and Green, the man who I had recognized. I still couldn't place him, but let it go. I had other things on my mind. I was with Thompson. We were to make our own ways to processing center, and meet up in front of the hangar where Thompson had acquired a ship for us. Riddick took me aside before we set off.  
  
"Are you going to be all right?" He asked quietly, searching my eyes for some hint of my emotions.  
  
"Yeah, I'll be fine as long as Thompson keeps his hands off me." He grinned, and ran his hand across my cheek quickly, bending down to kiss me briefly.  
  
"Take care, and keep your eyes open. I trust Thompson, but you have to look out for yourself. She can't die for nothing, Brenna." I understood what he meant, and felt reassured somehow, given a purpose. I grabbed his arm as he turned to go, and kissed him hard, holding him tightly to me.  
  
Thompson and I set off in an uncomfortable silence. I had nothing to say to him, and maybe he sensed that, or maybe he was nervous. I couldn't tell, and didn't really care. Riddick had ordered him to take the more cautious route, which was, in effect, the longer route. We had to go around the city center, sticking to narrow back roads. A few times I felt his eyes on me. He left me with a feeling of unease, feeling a discomfort that almost all men couldn't bring out of me.  
  
"So, you and Rick are a thing now, huh." He broke the silence crudely. I said nothing. "So what are you, in the army or something?" I scowled.  
  
"I'm a flight lieutenant." I looked at him coldly.  
  
"Yeah. So you're in the army?" I shook my head, disgusted. "I'm sorry about the girl. The Company will go to any lengths." He trailed off, and the tone in his voice made me look at him sharply.  
  
"What do you know about the company?" I saw that my question made him nervous, his scent thick and oppressive in the close confines of the vehicle.  
  
"I've heard things, you know, who hasn't." He shrugged vaguely. I noticed how he avoided my gaze, and smiled.  
  
"Yeah... That's true. Tell me Thompson, how'd you meet Riddick?"  
  
"Well, we've been friends since we were kids. We kept in touch when he was in the slam. You got any friends, Flashert? Or did you kill them all?" Startled by his words, I gasped.  
  
"What?" He glanced at me, seeming pleased by my reaction.  
  
"Your squad, Flashert, your team. I know all about that. And before you ask, Riddick wasn't the one to tell me. I must say, your psych evaluation reads like a novel." His teeth gleamed, a pretense of a smile.  
  
"But those are only accessible to-" He cut me off.  
  
"To Company people. I'm surprised you hadn't caught on before, you seemed like a bright girl." I sat in stunned silence, finally understanding my reaction to his presence, why I had always felt there was something not right about him. "Right now you and I are going to go for a little drive. And don't even think that Riddick is going to save you." I glared at him. "I didn't think you'd remember Stevens, your arresting officer. Or should I call him 'Green'?" He laughed then, and I saw my opportunity. I shifted in my seat, and reached slowly for my switchblade that was in a sheath strapped to my back.  
  
"You piece of shit. How can you do this? How can you set up your best friend like this?"  
  
"I never planned it… these things just kind of happen. Besides, I'm getting paid a fuck of a lot of money for this. The Company approached me quite a few years back, knowing that Riddick trusted me. They offered me a more than generous amount of money, and I agreed." He glanced at me, and my heart almost skipped a beat. "I'm not saying that I don't feel bad about it… But some things are more important than others." I saw him smile again, and bile rose in my throat. I glanced out of the window, and saw a little bit ahead of us a place where I could probably get away. I had the knife pressed against my forearm, concealing it.  
  
"What are you going to do with me?" I asked, making my voice all fluttery and scared-like. He looked over, and put his hand on my thigh.  
  
"Oh, don't you worry about that now. I'll take care of you." I smiled at him, and moved my thigh under his hand, forcing his hand a bit further up my thigh. He looked at me sharply, and took his hand away. "Don't even try that shit with me. I wasn't born yesterday."  
  
"I'm just trying to-"  
  
"Just trying to what, put me in a situation where you can rip my throat open?" I feigned sorrow.  
  
"That was a long time ago. Isolation can change a woman. It also makes her very lonely…" I looked at him, eyes wide and shining. I saw his eyes flit to my breasts, and I knew I had him. His eyes made my skin crawl with disgust, and his touch made me want to throw up. But I knew that this was the only way I would ever have a chance of escaping. "Why don't you pull over for a little, Thompson." He bit his lower lip, and looked around anxiously.  
  
"Maybe just for a little while…" He pulled over, looking around once more. I slid from my seat and straddled him, licking at his earlobe.  
  
"You know," I whispered in his ear "You should really trust your instincts." I felt him recoil beneath me, but by then the knife was buried a good four inches into his neck. I twisted the blade, feeling his blood spill over my hand. I sat back, looking into his surprised eyes, watching him gasp his last few breaths. I removed my knife and wiped the blade clean on his chest and got out of the car, assessing where I was. I was a little ways from the processing center, but not too far to make it on foot. I started off, looking down at myself. My hands were bloody, but I hadn't gotten any blood on my clothing, thankfully. I started to jog, hoping that Riddick would realize that there was something wrong with Green.  
  
I reached the processing center in good time, and got the necessary papers for Riddick, Green and myself. I figured that the company would be looking for a couple traveling together, and even though Green was in on it, it would be best to have him processed for security reasons. I approached the hangar cautiously, not seeing Riddick or Green. I was half an hour late, and I hoped that Green had not already gotten to Riddick. I paced anxiously as the minutes ticked by. I jumped as a hand took my arm. Riddick stood before me, goggles dangling from his neck. He smiled, and took me in his arms briefly.  
  
"I was worried about you. Kinda late, aren't you?" He said with a grin.  
  
"Yeah, came across a small setback." I looked around for Green, but he was nowhere in sight.  
  
"Me too, but it's manageable. Here he comes… Keep cool, okay?" I turned to look where he was looking and saw Green approaching. I looked questioningly at Riddick, but he silenced me with a stare.  
  
"Hi, uh, Flashert. Is uh, Thompson coming?" Green stuttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  
  
"No. Unfortunately he has other plans. Are we still on, Officer Stevens?" I smiled coldly as his jaw dropped, startled.  
  
"Uh… yes. Of course." I held out his papers and he snatched them from my hand, trembling. I looked at Riddick, who was laughing.  
  
"Mr. Stevens here is going to accompany us on our flight to assure out safety." He clapped a large hand on Stevens' back, who looked like he wanted to die on the spot.  
  
"Well isn't that kind of him!" I smiled, and entered the hangar, and boarded the ship, the two men behind me. I settled myself in the cockpit, and checked everything to make sure everything was in order, which it was. I made a quick visual inspection of the ship, which also was in order. I was checking the fuel gauges when Riddick came up behind me.  
  
"I'm going to kill him as soon as we're in safe distance from here. Then it's just you and me and the universe." I smiled, turning to face him.  
  
"I can hardly wait, Richard B. Riddick." He smiled, and stroked my chin before turning away. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. Before I could even turn to look I felt a searing pain in my side, and fell back against the gauges. Everything seemed to slow down then, my vision was painfully acute, my senses sharp. I looked at Riddick who was turning to see what had happened. I saw movement again, and staggered to my feet, turning to face my attacker. It was Stevens. He had gotten hold of a pulse rifle, and had shot me with it. Somehow, I managed to get between him and Riddick, and took another blast right in the chest. As I fell back against him, I saw him reach for his knife, and in the blink of an eye it seemed to be sailing through the air, glances of light gleaming off the blade. It embedded itself deep into Stevens' chest, who fell with an incredibly loud thump. My eyes closed, and I could hear myself gasping for air, my heartbeat filling my ears. Riddick was holding me, and I could hear his voice as if from a great distance.  
  
How could I forget the day I met him. I've never felt more alive as I now lie here, gasping for my last breath, struggling to look up at the man who made me feel like believing in something. I am happy to die here. People like us can't live for long… Or is it a question of being allowed to live? I can't think anymore. It's getting harder and harder to stay here. I can't see his face anymore, but I can see his eyes, staring at me from out of the blackness like two gleaming diamonds. What was it Hamlet said? To die, to sleep…  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The End 


End file.
